Captive-in-Chief (37 page)

Clay looked out as they circled the airport once again.

“It’s been a while since he’s had to worry about holding patterns,” joked the Force Recon retirees. Their love for Clay hadn’t grown being any nearer to him. Nor the fact that their Master Sergeant had forgiven him. To them, he was the man who had destroyed their colleague and robbed them of the best Force Recon Marine they had ever had the pleasure to serve with. After his unceremonious departure, all had left as quickly as their contracts would allow.

They hadn’t been there the night Joe had been captured but to a man they had vehemently protested the scenario that their Master Sergeant was anything other than a hero. They had all witnessed him in action. Cowering under fire? Nonsense. The way Clay had told the story and the actions he described of himself left them in little doubt that those actions had in fact been Joe’s.

When he had failed to defend himself on his release from the Iraqi torture chambers, they had all tried to see him but he had accepted his discharge without question and disappeared. They hadn’t heard from him until the phone call they had received a few hours earlier.

The pressure Clay was under was overwhelming. For a half hour he had thought his wife was dead. Finally the news had come through that it was Maria that had died not Val. It was little comfort; his pregnant niece was dead.

Joe walked away from his old team. They had weathered the years well, far better than he had. They all looked fit and ready for action, not that he was surprised. The Marine Corps, and especially Force Recon, was a lifestyle, it became part of you. Once a Marine always a Marine.

“If they’ve inaugurated Eric, his life will be in so much danger now,” said Clay as Joe approached.

“Why would they inaugurate Eric?” asked Jack, overhearing part of the conversation. Fortunately, Clay had not told his children about Val. He didn’t feel they’d benefit from knowing while flying at 37,000 feet. He would have told them when the time was right.

“It’s normal practice. If I’m incapacitated or out of contact, somebody needs to be able to make decisions.”

“Like what? What’s so important they can’t wait a day or two?” Jack asked absently while stroking a very appreciative Sandy.

“In all reality very little, however, if somebody fires a nuclear bomb at us, well…”

“Like
that’s
gonna happen. You guys are so last century,” replied Jack, ending his interest in the conversation.

“Out of the mouth of babes,” Clay mused.

“We’ve got a slot to land,” announced the pilot.

Clay walked through to the cockpit. “Any idea what the holdup was?”

The pilot pointed down to the airport. It was like a parking lot at a Super Bowl. Aircraft were parked everywhere, in every direction, and occupying every square inch of space.

“That’s a lot of private jets!” exclaimed the pilot. “They’ve been zipping in to land over the last hour and their occupants being ferried by helicopters off to the northwest.”

The bird’s eye view their holding pattern had offered was perfect to understand what had been transpiring below.

“Just get us down there ASAP, please.”

Clay walked back into the main cabin and updated his ragtag crew on what was happening.

“There was no event planned for tonight, certainly not when you were scheduled to attend, Mr. President!” Ramona said on hearing the news of the myriad of private jets.

“Which means there is every chance this is their big move,” Clay concluded. “We need to get to Eric as a matter of urgency. We can trust no one.”

“Mr. President, we need to keep you secure and out of the way. If they do get to Eric, we need you alive. You’re our only hope,” said Mike. His sworn duty was to keep his president alive.

Clay turned to Joe and his Force Recon buddies.

“Here we go,” murmured Carlos. “He’s got a great excuse to duck out of this one.”

Clay ignored the comment, which drew daggers from Ramona. Carlos’ cards were marked, something few ever recovered from.

“Mike, I’m going to be by my friend’s side,” Clay said. “If not, in front of him. If this is my time, so be it, but I’m going to prove to my friend I am the man he always thought I was.”

“Very touching, Mr. President,” barked Sarah, “but if you and Eric die, the country is screwed.”

“I obviously have a lot more faith in our citizens than you do. The perpetrators of this conspiracy have woefully underestimated the resolve and might of the American people. Whether I live or die, I know our people will see through the crimes perpetrated against them and stand tall.”

“Very rousing but—”

“You listen to your president,” Ramona snapped, cutting Sarah off. “He’s right, we’re already seeing through it. These people are living in the past if they think we’ll tolerate the crap they’re trying to bring about. Time to stop bitchin’ and start fightin’ back!”

Carlos grinned. “She’s good!”

Ramona gave him a brief smile; it was the shortest time anyone had ever lasted on her shit list.

“Seat belts please, we’re on our final approach,” announced the pilot.

He had them in the palm of his hand. All had heard a version of the story although never from someone so close to actual events.

“My sister remembered it so clearly. It’s a shame she can’t be here herself to regale you with her own personal memories but I hope I will do it justice. The war was over. The Russians were coming, there was nothing that could stop them. Mistakes had been made, of that there was little doubt. She remembers the bunker, hot, stuffy, smelly. She had been there for weeks and when she was told they were leaving, she packed her bag with no sense of sorrow. The mood was somber as she said her farewells to the people close to her father. Those who were staying behind had been chosen. They were willing to sacrifice their lives so that the cause could live on. She remembers walking into the room where her father would meet with his generals. Two men turned to her. She never knew which was which. She hated when her father played tricks with her with his doubles. She always felt she dishonored him when she failed to know who was her real father. He loved it if his own daughter couldn’t tell.”

The speaker paused as the personal memory caused a ripple of laughter around the room.

“It was April 27
th
when they made their way from the bunker. Her father, my mother, and a few key advisors. My sister didn’t know her own mother, she only ever knew her father. Not that the world knew of her existence. Born to a carefully selected partner she was, in her father’s eyes, the most perfect child. She was always his favorite, of that I can testify by personal experience. She was an amazing woman, as many of you know.”

A round of applause and many shouts of ‘here here’ interrupted him for the memory of his sister.

“The plane journey as you can imagine was long and slow and for a young girl, interminably boring. She remembered landing many times in total darkness, swooping out of the sky and landing on fields lined with hastily built fires. The smell of fuel burnt at her eyes as the plane refueled before once again leaping into the sky. Finally they reached a villa on an island called Fuerteventura where they spent a wonderful week. The breaking news of the war being over barely registered, as the news of her father’s death was the only news she could focus on. However, he and my mother stood right in front of her, despite reports of their deaths coming over the radio.

“She realized why the double was in the bunker. He was there to provide her father, our father, an escape. A few days later, another interminable journey began, a journey by U-boat that culminated not far from here, my birthplace, where I spent the first few years of my life with my father prior to his death. But not before he had given us the seed to grow and prepare for our new coming, our new beginning.

“You are all, almost entirely, like my sister Lebensborn, carefully selected Aryan mothers, growing the seed of true believers from the old Reich for the rebirth of a new Reich.”

A thunderous applause erupted. People jumping to their feet, saluting the son of their founder.

“Please let not us forget our partners, as it was only with their help we have grown over the last two generations to be in a position to once again have a country to call our own. Where is the grand wizard?”

The Grand Wizard of the Ku Klux Klan stood up and waited for the applause to calm down. “You are too kind. Our fathers’ fortuitous meeting was a day that shaped what we are today. It was your father that showed us the light, let us see the future and deliver what we see here today, a new dawn. We ended the protests, our supporters were encouraged to go to college, join the military, become politicians, rise through the ranks to our seats of power. That is how you make change. It’s taken us many years. Our pure daughters have borne the seeds of your great leaders, helping create the great Americans we see here today. A perfect blend of Aryan power that will lead us forward and with the might already within our grasp lead us on to a greatness befitting your father’s memory.”

The hall erupted again.

They landed and were directed to a spot at the far end of the apron. A refueling aircraft was not going to get a spot near the terminal building, which was perfectly fine with them. They powered down the engines, cracked open the door, and waited for a security check. It never came. A USAF aircraft was obviously all the evidence that was needed to secure an easy entry to Bariloche. Of course, it helped that the aircraft had originated in Florida and not Washington, according to its flight records.

Ten minutes after landing, Alex, who had posed as one of the pilots just in case, pulled the hatch in the floor that led to the cargo area below.

“Looks like we’re fine,” he said.

The group pulled themselves out of the hold and were immediately split into two groups; those staying behind and those going to the island. As much as Clay wanted to stay with his kids, he needed to go. It was his duty. Joe wasn’t leaving his side. Sandy wasn’t leaving his. Likewise, Mike made it clear he was with the president.

“Give me a gun and you got nothing to worry about here!” Ramona said. She’d protect the children with her life.

The three Force Recon Marines stepped forward. “We’re with you!” they said, looking at Joe.

“I’m happy to come but I’ll be wherever you want me to be Mr. President,” offered Sarah

“I can handle a gun,” said Clara.

“Me too,” said Tess, quickly followed by Jack.

“I can’t,“ Daryl said. “I’ve never really liked guns, to be honest.”

“I’d really appreciate you staying here, Sarah, thank you. And Daryl maybe best you stay here.”

“Carlos,” said Joe. “Yeah, you’re staying here too.”

“Why me?” he asked. He would, Joe knew, follow whatever order he was given.

“You made the joke earlier,” said Joe, “so you get to babysit!”

“So what’s the plan?” asked Clay.

“Same as D.C.. You’re still the president, you’re their Commander-in-Chief.”

“We’re assuming we can trust them?”

“Mr. President, so far we’ve met very few people we can’t trust, we have to assume the vast majority are loyal to you. Those that aren’t have obviously been very carefully placed where they need to be. I think the closer we get to the island, the more wary we need to be.”

“So what, we walk over and jump in a helicopter and tell them to take us to the island?”

Joe nodded. “If they refuse, we’ll kill them. If they refuse their president, they’re obviously a traitor.”

“Or one of your old buddies,” said Clay. Alex, Carlos, and Bobby looked away sheepishly.

Their trip to the island proved uneventful. The pilot of the USAF Black Hawk had, like the tanker pilots, been only too accommodating and extremely nervous at ferrying his Commander–in-Chief. He’d even been accepting of, with numerous apologies from Clay, about his subsequent binding and gagging until things were resolved, one way or another.

Their journey to the main lodge wasn’t quite as easy. Bobby only just managed to slit the throat of the first golf cart driver who was about to raise the alarm. After that, it was clear they were in far more hostile territory. They stopped the cart before they entered the main clearing that surrounded the lodge and crept through the shrubbery.

The building was surrounded. A thunderous applause from inside caught everyone’s attention, including the guards.

“I know that guy,” Mike whispered to Joe and Clay. “He used to work with me, one of our best men. If he’s outside he’s not with them. He’s close protection.”

“How do we get his attention without getting anyone else’s?”

Joe pointed to the man and Sandy walked out and headed towards him. The agent watched her come. She let him pat her before walking back towards Joe, hidden amongst the trees and shrubs.

“Are you sure?” asked Clay as the agent followed Sandy to see where she had come from, his hand ready on his pistol.

He reached the bushes and looked in. Mike stepped into his view. “Dave, do not react! It’s Mike Laing.”

Mike was aware that both Bobby and Alex had Dave in their sights, just in case he did.

“What the…”

“Dave, I said don’t react. It is very important you look as though everything is okay. The guards are looking over with some concern now.”

Dave turned. “It’s nothing!” He shouted over his shoulder. “One of the sniffer dogs got loose!”

“I’m with the president, Dave. It’s a very long story but we need to get into that building ASAP. Can you trust the men you’re with?”

“No,” was his simple answer. “Two of them are crazy. I’ve never met them before but Jesus you should hear how they talk about people.”

“Another time,” Joe said hurriedly. “Where does that door lead to?”

“The basement,” said Dave, “with full access to the main building. It’s why there are so many of us. Whoever arrived to speak must be a big deal, the guard doubled as soon as he pulled up.”

“If we create a diversion out front, you think you can get us in?”

“I’ll give it a try.”

“Okay go!” instructed Joe.

Joe told Bobby and Alex what he wanted. They nodded and disappeared into the undergrowth.

Joe raised his suppressed M4 and followed Dave through the scope. If he was a traitor, he’d be the first man down.

A loud crack from around front echoed through the woods. Bobby or Alex had whacked a tree with a large branch. They would repeat the effect. They were Force Recon, they knew how to keep out of sight.

Dave signaled to his colleagues around him, touching his earpiece to his ear. “Around front, there’s something happening, I’ll stay here. Go!” he urged. Three of the four obliged, the fourth didn’t, he stayed with Dave, his eyes peering into the woods with renewed intensity.

Joe fired and caught the man right between the whites of his very alert eyes. He dropped to the ground next to Dave.

Joe, Mike, and Clay rushed across the open ground. Joe and Dave bundled the body of the man into the basement as they went.

“Stay here. If they ask, he disappeared into the woods. If they don’t buy it, and we’re rumbled, a warning shot would be appreciated if possible,” said Mike.

“It’s the least I can do,” Dave said proudly.

When they reached the basement, the applause was finally dying down. Karl Leipzig started to speak. Clay halted them and put his finger to his mouth. He knew the man. Not well, however, anyone in Clay’s position would have had to know him. They were directly below the dining room and could hear everything being said. They kept looking at each other as the old man continued, to check they were hearing it correctly.

He paused and another round of applause began.

Joe looked at Clay. “He’s talking about Hitler? Is he saying he escaped and lived near here?”

“There were rumors he escaped but, well, to be honest...” he paused, considering what he had just heard. “You know, the only proof he was dead were eyewitness statements from his most ardent supporters. We’re talking about people who lied and deceived for a living. Rather convenient that they burned his body and to this day we’ve never had one piece of DNA to prove it was in fact him that died. The greatest criminal in history and we simply believed his most fervent supporters that he was dead, no proof or evidence.”

“The world needed him dead to heal.”

“Quite possibly. Stalin always claimed he’d escaped.”

“Lebensborn?” asked Mike.

“A program. I think it was Himmler’s idea. Young Aryan women were impregnated by the Nazi elite to create the perfect race. The more women they could impregnate the better. By the sounds of it Hitler himself partook in what was basically a government approved scheme to screw around on your wife with beautiful young women.”

The announcement that they had a partner in their atrocity and the introduction of the grand wizard stunned them once again to silence. Clay’s face fell.

“You okay?” asked Joe.

Clay shook his head, he was anything but okay, though not because he had discovered the KKK and Nazis had effectively gone underground sixty years earlier to consolidate their power and grow to where they were about to take control of the country.

It was the voice, a voice he recognized all too well.